I feel your pain as if it were my own. I’ve felt every splinter in your heart, every crack in your soul, every ache from the emptiness. I’ve made friends with the roots of the flowers you wish shared their beauty with you. I’ve cursed the clouds for casting me in shadows. I’ve pounded my bleeding fists against the earth, begging for the pain to leave me.

I have felt everything you are feeling now. It’s a hurricane inside your chest, and you feel it sweeping across lands with no control. Chaos is left in your footsteps and you can’t stand to see the mess you’ve made.

But darling, if only you knew that storms rip up the old roots, allowing the new ones to have their chance.

But I also feel that small flicker of hope that you shelter from the winds inside you. It’s the last thing you have, and you’ll be damned if it gets destroyed. But know this, my love: wind feeds fire. Let that small flame of hope burst into a wildfire that will run rampant in your heart. Let it take over you, consuming every ounce of your being. Let it be the light to guide you through the darkness. Let it melt away the numbness and cold that has plagued you for far too long.

Do not spend your time running from a tornado. It’s time to turn around and face it.

I will hold your hand. I will make sure you do not fall. I will whisper encouragement. I will be there when you fear that everyone else has gone.

Let the storm rage on tonight, for tomorrow will be a new day that has been cleansed of heartache and despair.